Showing posts with label nothing is any good if other people like it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nothing is any good if other people like it. Show all posts

Friday

Part 3.

Isn't it crazy how much I'm posting? All on the same thing! I haven't even told you about my cat!

can you see my soul?

Katherine was right to assure me! Turns out I have an ordinary (though sizable) chunk of whatnot floating around in my vitreous humor. Nothing is torn or sagging or broken or otherwise in danger of blinding me. So for the next several months I can just expect a little extra bling in my visual field. Optical razzle dazzle, if you will.

In other eyeball news, I mentioned that I was concerned that my vision has seemed less sharp in the past few years, since all the thyroid stuff. The doctor was very nice, but he glared at me through his spectacles with an "i hate you die" vibe that I have gotten lots of times in the past (and which, actually, I'll probably be getting from you in a moment!), before telling me that my vision is 20/15. Yay!! (Sorry.)

Then he got up in my grill about my scleral show. Not saying that there was anything of concern, just that it was weird. And man, whatever. Haters gonna hate.

Thursday

In a related story: Goddamnit, Michael Sheen.

Michael Sheen, what were you thinking? You are an excellent actor. You were going to be set playing any and every English person of note that you even vaguely look like. You were even in all three Underworld movies and still managed to hang on to your good will.



But frankly, sir, your career deserves what it gets.

And I see you in the back, there, Grindelwald. You're young, and you're pretty, but don't think you have an excuse.

PS ... lol.

Friday

Nostalgia is stupid.

So, yesterday I discovered that Rainbow Brite is getting a makeover. Today I saw the story picked up by a couple other places.

Oh, God, I didn't even know about the Care Bears. No one give me details.

Of course my primary reaction is "kill it with fire," but I keep being distracted by what I'm seeing in the comments. No, I don't know why I'm reading the comments. They must contain tar and nicotine. To wit: "What's next, Jem??" and "They better leave Jem alone!!!"

Really, internet? Really? A few things.

1. You meant: They better leave Pizzazz alone. I've always been a Misfits girl. (Don't pretend to be surprised.)
2. Where was your rage over that singer chick from five years ago? I was alone then.
and
3. Jem is already trampy. That's, like, the point of Jem. Whose virtue will you protect next, She-Ra? Who fights the Horde in a lamé bathing suit?

Thursday

Why I simultaneously need, and do not need, a Twitter.

First and foremost, I don't want a Twitter. I dislike most websites that fall under the heading of "social networking." Also, I don't care what I do all day. If I were doing anything interesting enough to warrant frequent documentation, I wouldn't have the time.

Sometimes, though, I think about what I would write in my hypothetical Twitter. Or something will happen, and I'll think it's just the sort of thing I would Twitter about. You know, stuff that's not really blog-appropriate. I thought about compiling some of these things, and making a blog entry about Things I Would Have Twittered, but I never actually write them down, and then I forget about them and no longer care.

Furthermore, while I may want to write these things down, I don't exactly want people to read them. I don't want people to follow me, I don't want to follow anyone, I especially don't want to follow anyone famous, and I don't want to be in any way connectable or findable. (I totally Googled some people I knew in high school yesterday.)

On some other hand, though, Twitter would provide a great venue for cryptic one-liners. And those are my favorite. I would be utterly delighted to give my inscrutable gibberish as little context as possible. I am positively itching to let you know everything while letting you know nothing!!

... It is not and has never been a mystery why I have trouble socializing.

Friday

Success!!

Today I received a call from my niece, officially inviting me to her birthday party.

In the course of the conversation, she told me that she wanted me to make her a mix CD, like I have previously done. Because she listens to those, and the Beatles CD I got her, all the time. She knows all the words to all the songs. She thinks I have amazing taste.

I am so pleased with myself right now. I can't remember if I wrote about it here or not, but it had been my intent to introduce her to better music than the Z100 crap she favored. ... Thereby saving her life through art and making sure she doesn't become an insipid and unmindful and jaded person. Pretentious? Yes. Jerky? Maybe. But whatever because PHASE ONE COMPLETE.

... She also made a list of songs she wants included. Apparently her favorite song right now is "If U Seek Amy." Which, I mean, I'd object, but let's just say that would involve a certain amount of hypocrisy.

Later in the conversation she informed me of her plans to become a forensic investigator, and told me she looks up to me because I don't need a man to complete my life.

She will be 11.

Sunday

Local girl survives weekend in freezing woods; subsisted on cookies, she says.

There is an article about Neko Case in this week's edition of the New York Times Magazine. MY SPHERES ARE INTERSECTING AND I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. And unlike in most instances where I say that and I really mean, "My feelings about this matter lean towards the negative," this time I really don't know! I mean, on one hand there's yay, but on the other hand there's a lot of ???.

In other news, I sprained my ankle and it's still impressively swollen and there's some bruising. But I can walk okay. Also, I discovered that 280 East has a lot of things in common with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

But aside from that, I had a nice weekend. And there were cookies!

I love this nutball.

No, not Robert Pattinson. Jacob, from TWoP! Yes, him again. And probably all but two of you have already stopped reading. I DON'T CARE. Also, even though this entry is about Jacob, it's still about Twilight because, well.

My Jacob-love is resurging right now for two reasons. 1. Because he is doing more than anyone else to ensure that "Vampire Boyfriend" enters the social lexicon. Way moreso than I am. 2. Because he explains vampire boyfriends (and werewolf boyfriends) like so:


-----
Why's it happening again? Why on earth is our culture playing out entirely vampire boyfriend/werewolf boyfriend right now? And I'm not just saying this because Twilight came out yesterday -- these three series of books I'm talking about started in 1993 (Anita), 2001 (Sookie), and 2005 (Twilight) and pretty much have ruled the bestseller lists since then, even with the variances in quality, readability and WTF between them; seven of the eight Sookie novels are bestsellers pretty much nonstop, which is not something that ever happened before. I think it's pretty easy if you follow the line of blood: The war and the Greatest Generation's reassignment and recapitulation of gender roles becomes the uphill battle of the '50s and the glorious global shout of the '60s becomes the delirious sexual abandon of the '70s becomes the cruelty and sexual artifice of the '80s becomes the total AIDS-related sexual freakout of the '90s ... and we grew up in that, doing the incredibly dangerous undercover work of becoming healthy sexual beings that people have been doing since there were people, with all that crazy on top, mediated for the first time by television telling us back to ourselves in realtime and the endless fucking Baby Boomer retellings and nostalgia and music videos disguised as feature films. We became men and women in the middle of that shitstorm. Vampire Guy/Werewolf Guy is just us telling that story back to the world and trying to decide what to do next.
-----


I mean ... have you ever? The raving starts here, it's in the middle of a True Blood recap, which I don't know if you care about, but just be forewarned, but he's only barely talking about it, if you are.

Thursday

Here are some observations about insignificant and unentertaining minutiae.

So, yesterday I engaged in some foreign activities. I listened to the radio. While I was driving. On the Parkway. I can't even tell you about the time I passed someone utilizing the left lane. COULD YOU HANDLE IT?

The radio station I was listening to was 101.9, which you may remember me mentioning was a hated smooth jazz station. But wait! It has changed, and is now WRXP: The Rock Experience. See what they did there? It's actually pretty good. As I was driving in my car (!) listening to the radio (!) I heard a song on this station that I've totally never heard before. (!) I was intrigued because it lifted a lyric from a Fleetwood Mac song: "When I talk to God I knew he'd understand/He said stick by me and I'll be your guiding hand." (The new rhythm of the line caused me to realize that I'd been mondegreening that as "I'll be your God in hand" - which, come on, that's a lot better.) Then, as I was listening, it suddenly occurred to me, "Wait a minute! Is this The Clash??"

Well, sort of. Turns out the song was "Why Do Men Fight?" a new single by Carbon/Silicon, a band comprised of Mick Jones of The Clash, and Tony James of Generation X. It's not bad. I bought it off iTunes.

In tangentially related news, I'd like to show you the Best Shirt Ever.

Speaking of new and exciting things: I just went through a drive-thru for the first time ever. Well, as a driver. Naturally. I mean, this is America. I've been to a few drive-up ATMs, so I figured I was ready for this bold next step. I went to McDonald's to get a big-ass thing of their new sweet tea. Sweet tea is exactly my brand of heroin [/hates Twilight]. And, just as I'd planned, they asked me if I wanted anything else, other than a beverage, and I was totally like, "Nope!" Just the tea, thanks! I managed it well, even gave exact change, but I still don't like anything that involves me reaching out of my car for things. I don't think it'd be so bad if it weren't for my congenital shortness.

And now, here are some vignettes of domestic envy:
- My Swiss neighbors have a Dyson. Not the purple one, the yellow one, but, a Dyson nonetheless. I still don't have one, and I still want one.
- My next-door neighbor has been going to the gym, and I think she's definitely skinnier than I am now. Also, her husband looks just like the Chief.

Oh, and apropos of having to go get that picture from IMDb, I've always thought Prince Caspian was a douchebag. Always.

Guys, I haven't decided what I'll be having for lunch yet, but I'll totally let you know!

Tuesday

Alright, now, seriously.

Am I the only person who knows that it's spelled storey? And that the plural is storeys? Seriously! Did I grow up in a parallel universe? The spellcheck isn't even recognizing it!

Friday

OK! Computer!

I actually don't like Radiohead, but the title still must be used sometimes.

Folks, I have an announcement. For the first time in nearly a decade, I have a new computer. Okay, there was that time when I went to college and I had my own computer, but then I stopped using it and switched back to the ol' junk bucket. That's not important right now.

What's important is that it's so sexy I want to cry.

Vista? It's not that bad. The wom-wom window effect might eventually give me a headache, but ... dear God. SO PRETTY.

When I was setting things up, I found myself, um, unconsciously stroking the console. It's just so smooth!!

Thursday

This post will contain words that I have never used before.

But this is not to say that my lovely readers will be unfamiliar with them. Many of you won't be!

So ... guess what I've been doing!

If you answered "Knitting?" you get the prize! ... of self-satisfaction. I have totally been knitting. I had planned to attempt knitting for a while now. For Christmas of 2005  , my mother bought me Stitch N' Bitch and a gift certificate to my Local Yarn Store. A year and a week later, I decided to pack it to read on the train. A little under a week later, I spent 6 hours reading it through and thinking, "Well this doesn't sound so bad!" In my head, I was already designing my first project. A SCARF. Hooray!

Once I was home again, I turned to the internet to help me get some more information. On Saturday, I headed to my LYS. It was very exciting! I didn't hit a single light, I got a spot right in the front of the municipal parking lot, and there were 53 minutes on the meter. This boded well. Now, going in, I wasn't sure what my plan of attack was going to be. I strongly considered immediately finding the store owners and explaining that I had no idea what I was doing and could they please help me? Once I got to the store, I scratched that plan. It was smaller than I had anticipated. The ladies that I assumed were the owners were sitting in the back, stitching away, and saying things that until then I'd only read in blogs. I felt tiny and intimidated. Knowing what I was coming in for made me feel more confident and at ease. I was able to locate the yarn - I went with Blue Sky Alpaca, which I totally found on Annika's blog. Naturally, I got the amethyst. My ball of yarn looks just like that! Actually, better. But we'll get to that later. At this point in the story I'm still in the store and looking for needles. I was looking for US size 5. Yes, bitches, that's right. I had no idea how to knit and I was totally going for sport weight on size 5 needles. Average is for pussies. Ahem. There was a small display on the opposite side of the room of some very pretty, ridiculously expensive needles. ($25! What the hell! Not that I had any idea how much things cost. That was something of a problem.) Finally I ambled a little back and caught the eye of one of the owner ladies. Did I need help with something? Oh boy did I! I asked if she had any other needles than the ones displayed. She sure did! Turns out that underneath the display there were drawers, and those drawers were full of knitting needles. What size was I looking for? I was looking for size 5. "Oh!" I said. "That's the brand I was looking for." And it totally was. (They get their wood from renewable growing ... patches. Or something like that.) Did I want the shorter ones or the longer ones? I totally wanted the 14" ones.

At this point, I had made my selection, and the items fell neatly within the cushion of my gift certificate. An entirely cost-free excursion! Awesome! Now I had everything I needed and the only component missing was me actually knowing how to knit. Which I did not at all.

Then I went to the movies. My mother and I saw "Children Of Men." It was, in a word, ass. Then we went out to dinner. Later that evening, I set to winding my skein of yarn into a center-pull ball of yarn. I promptly got the whole thing tangled. So I called the boy and sat on my bed and I tried to undo the mess I'd created. Eventually, I did. Then I pressed my luck (it was about 1 o'clock at this time) by trying to figure out how to cast on. I found out that Stitch N' Bitch, while a fine book in many ways, is actually a terrible guide for learning how to knit. The instructions were basically: "Make a slip knot. Great! Now that you've got your entire first row of stitches ... " What! I went to sleep.

The next day, I learned how to knit from the internet. Um. FYI, if you know how to knit, and I know you know how to knit, someday I may have to ask you to tell me how to knit something. Just fair warning. I think I've done pretty well on my own, though! I cast on by knitting on. The loops are a little tight around the needle to start with, but I like the way it turns out. I practiced knitting and purling and binding off, and then I figured I was ready to go. I started making my SCARF. By the time I was on the third row, I had acquired two extra stitches. So I took it all out and started over. One extra stitch. Start over. Now, I realize that there's probably a way to fix having too many stitches, but I'll be damned if I know what it is. I have no idea what I'm doing, remember. I'm doing the border of my SCARF in seed stitch (it is   attractive, guys!), but it turns out I was actually making 1x1 ribbing. Heh. Start over. At least now I'm making stitches faster.

I think I've worked out all the kinks at this point. If I wind up with anything half-way decent, I'll take a picture and post it. WHETHER YOU CARE OR NOT.

I feel all full of new knowledge now. Aside from finally being able to decipher some of my friends' blog posts, I've only just now discovered how much of the material I wear is knitted. I never noticed before!

Just so we're clear, I have no interest in joining a knitting society or anything. I still dislike most forms of socializing. That has not changed. I just want to make things. I like making things. I hope I'm good at it.

We will return to regularly scheduled subjects whenever I get around to blogging again.

Wednesday

Also - a step behind.

I discovered recently that liking the Decemberists hasn't been cutting edge for a while. Hating  them is cutting edge. I am so sad. But I'm hip to being square - they still fill my heart with rainbows.

Also, what the hell Blogger? The new Blogger is out of beta! Just when I was starting to appreciate being in the exclusive club! Why must fate toy so with me?

Thursday

There's nothing we like more than watching the wizards rock it out like this.

Folks, I have some very important things to discuss with you about the state of rock. But wait ... not just any rock. This post is about wizard  rock.

This post is about Harry Potter.

Let me explain. As we all know, there is Harry Potter. As some of us know, there is also "Harry and the Potters," a band comprised of two brothers from up in New England somewhere who write and perform songs from the perspective of the boy wizard. If your reaction is already "What the hell?" then you may want to check them out before proceeding: Fiercely creative?

I first heard about Harry and the Potters, vaguely, I don't know, maybe about a year and a half ago? The idea amused me greatly, but I didn't look for any information on them or try to listen to their songs for a while after that. The first song I heard was pretty excellent, but it set me up for disappointment. My verdict was: Sadly, they were not brilliant. But they had the possibility of being brilliant. Their first album is ... well, it contains such scintillating insight as "My cousin is real fat." Their second album is leaps and bounds better, and contains the song "The Missing Arm of Viktor Krum" which is, in fact, brilliant. Plus, I hear they're just terrific live. They've just put out their third full length album, and I have high hopes. I'd like to purchase it once I devise a cunning plan to buy things off the internet without a credit card. Again.

Here's where things go off the deep end.

We have Harry and the Potters. The kids like them. The kids like them so much they think, "Damn, why didn't I  do that?" Then? They do that. I stumbled upon an enclave of this thing now known as "wizard rock" in the scorched and barren wasteland that is MySpace. And I discovered more bands than I can think about, named after just about every character and every item in the books that you can remember, and even ones you can't. Nigh on to one hundred  of these "bands." It's crazy! The formula for making your own is pretty simple:

1. [Character First Name] and the [Character Last Name]s (Harry and the Potters, Draco and the Malfoys, Ron and the Weasleys)
- or -
2. The [Character Full Name]s (The Remus Lupins, The Neville Longbottoms)
- or -
3. [Character Name] and the [Something Related to Them]s (Romilda Vane and the Chocolate Cauldrons, Dobby And The House Elves)
- or -
4. Anything else (The Wands, The Firebolts, The Whomping Willows, The Sectumsepras)

Think of one, and they have it. Very few of these "bands" have gone so far as to release albums; only a small number have. Most of them have simply written a handful of songs that they've uploaded to MySpace. Many only have two or three. Some, as it happens, haven't even made any music yet, they're just rushing to stake their claim in this very odd phenomenon, before someone else steals their name. As for what they do outside of Harry Potter, do they have their own, regular bands? I don't know. I'd wager that it varies.

Then, you have the songs. Generally, most of them write from the perspective of whatever they've chosen to name themselves after. The Whomping Willows? Are all about the Whomping Willow. The Giant Squid has a band. I left that one alone, I can only handle so much. Some of them cover various character perspectives. Most are overt, drawing their topics right off the pages. Some are a bit more murky, but no one manages to stumble on that "Robert Plant clearly digs Lord of the Rings" medium that I would have liked to find.

Then you have the music, and this is where I get into critique. I wasn't sure what to expect when I started testing these waters, but I guess it was something along the lines of the homespun, endearing kitsch that I'd heard so far. Most of it, though? Blows. So Hard. Seriously, there is some bad, bad music ripe (and I mean ripe) for the plucking. It's honestly not worth it to listen to most of what's out there, unless it happens to be written by your children. So what did I do? I spent a good deal of my otherwise unusable time listening to it. I listen to bad music so that you don't have to. Of the 70 or so bands that I gave a listen to (I typically gave a song 30 seconds to impress me, which was perhaps a bit harsh, but hell, it's not like I was being paid), I found 8 that I can say I think are worthwhile. Actually, 5. And three halfs. But of those bands, I have this to say:

Runners up: These are two groups that I sort of like but can't give my complete support too. They seem to be pretty popular with the "community," for what that's worth. First is The Hermione Crookshanks Experience. +11 points for the name, right there. That name cracks me up. The songs are written and sung by a very nice young lady and are ... passable. The best of them is an anthem for SPEW, which is catchy and darling enough to make me ignore that she pronounces it "spew  " which everyone knows Hermione wouldn't. The second is The Remus Lupins who, in actuality, is just one guy. He's, like, crazy popular with the kids, or so the internet has lead me to believe. I actually think he's a pretty good musician, and his songs are fairly well written. But unlike most of the bands, he throws in a lot of things that are speculative and non-canon, so it's almost like fanfic set to music. And I don't have any interest in that.

Harry And The Potters: Seriously, listen to them, just so you can say you have. Original and still champ, their music making skill has improved greatly since they had to come up with a bunch of songs one afternoon and said, "Why not Harry Potter?" Seriously, I will send you "The Missing Arm of Viktor Krum." It is brilliant. Seriously. Oh, Ron.

Draco And The Malfoys: This is the second wizard rock band I ever heard of. They work with Harry and the Potters a lot. When I first heard of them last year, I didn't think they were a real band, because I hadn't figured any of this out yet. Anyway, as you can imagine, they are the musical foil to Harry and the Potters, sung as Draco Malfoy. It's ... such a good time. The songs, with titles such as "Your Family Is Poor," "Voldemort Is Awesome," and "Hippogriffs Deserve To Die," are earnestly, gleefully  mean-spirited and funny as hell. You will laugh as your jaw drops and you think "So wrong. So, so wrong."

The Moaning Myrtles: The Moaning Myrtles hail from the lovely Garden State. They're from the same town my cousin used to live in before she dumped the person she's no longer engaged to to move back in with her mother even though she's twenty-six and makes a damn lot of money working for Bristol Meyers Squibb. I don't know why you needed to know that, but it adds color, doesn't it? Anyway, the Moaning Myrtles are from Jersey and they are actually brilliant. They've got good voices that were probably trained in high school choir that they blend into pleasant harmonies. One plays bass, one plays keyboard, and they do it well. And they're fricking hilarious. Their Myrtle is saucy, and if you saw the bathtub scene in GoF, you'll have some idea of what to expect. In one song, entitled "Prefects Are Hot," they proclaim: Death Is Way More Fun With Bubbles. I bought their shirt that says that, because that's how much I love them.

Ginny And The Heartbreakers: Besides having a name that I love, these girls get extra points for being the only group I listened to that actually made me believe that the character would sing their songs. If Ginny Weasley had a band, these are the songs she would play. Probably. I was a little worried at first, because their signature song starts with the declarative statement: "I have red hair." Oof. What am I in for? It turns out, however, to be a deceptively simple and lovely ode to personal confidence. I have listened to it many times on repeat and I hope they write more songs soon.

Roonil Wazlib: There just really should be a band called Roonil Wazlib. That just makes me happy. Anyway, I think this is just one girl. Her songs are hit or miss, but when she hits, she's very entertaining. There's one song, from the point of view of Molly Weasley, that's a tenderly sung ode to her husband. Aww. Then there's another, sung in the same tender tone, by Wormtail, regarding his "awesome silver hand." Hee!

Honorable mention: There's one last band that I'm putting on here for the sheer entertainment of it. It's called Siriusly Black. The conceit is that, à la Tupac, Sirius Black keeps it "wiz rockin' from the behind the veil." It's so awesome. I can't guarantee that anyone will share my sense of humor, but I nearly stopped breathing  I laughed so hard. Yo, Bella, what the hella?

There are some other bands out that that are, I suppose, good, but simply don't appeal to me. Since the only requirement is that the songs be inspired by Harry Potter, "wizard rock" is a broad umbrella. There's some dark, metal type music going on as well as atmospheric experimental stuff and some honest-to-goodness unrepentent emo. Interesting, sure, and with merits, perhaps, but nothing I'm interested in. My biggest disappoints were from the band styling itself "Weezard" (talk about aiming too high) and the girl who played the hammered dulcimer. I wanted to like them.

And there, my friends, you have it. Wizard rock. No, I am not kidding.